The Social Cancer - The Original Classic Edition. Хосе Рисаль
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it has forgotten you?" inquired the rubicund youth.
"I mean that it has been a year since I have received any news from here, so that I find myself a stranger who does not yet know
how and when his father died."
This statement drew a sudden exclamation from the lieutenant.
"And where were you that you didn't telegraph?" asked Dona Victorina. "When we were married we telegraphed to the Peninsula."3 "Senora, for the past two years I have been in the northern part of Europe, in Germany and Russian Poland."
Doctor De Espadana, who until now had not ventured upon any conversation, thought this a good opportunity to say something. "I--I knew in S-spain a P-pole from [22]W-warsaw, c-called S-stadtnitzki, if I r-remember c-correctly. P-perhaps you s-saw him?" he asked timidly and almost blushingly.
"It's very likely," answered Ibarra in a friendly manner, "but just at this moment I don't recall him."
"B-but you c-couldn't have c-confused him with any one else," went on the Doctor, taking courage. "He was r-ruddy as gold and t-talked Spanish very b-badly."
"Those are good clues, but unfortunately while there I talked Spanish only in a few consulates."
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"How then did you get along?" asked the wondering Dona Victorina.
"The language of the country served my needs, madam."
"Do you also speak English?" inquired the Dominican, who had been in Hongkong, and who was a master of pidgin-English, that
adulteration of Shakespeare's tongue used by the sons of the Celestial Empire. "I stayed in England a year among people who talked nothing but English." "Which country of Europe pleased you the most?" asked the rubicund youth. "After Spain, my second fatherland, any country of free Europe."
"And you who seem to have traveled so much, tell us what do you consider the most notable thing that you have seen?" inquired
Laruja.
Ibarra appeared to reflect. "Notable--in what way?"
"For example, in regard to the life of the people--the social, political, religious life--in general, in its essential features--as a whole."
Ibarra paused thoughtfully before replying. "Frankly, I like everything in those people, setting aside the national pride of each one. But before visiting a country, I tried to familiarize myself with its history, its Exodus, if I may so speak, and afterwards I found everything quite natural. I have observed that the prosperity or misery of each people is in direct proportion to its liberties or its prejudices and, [23]accordingly, to the sacrifices or the selfishness of its forefathers."
"And haven't you observed anything more than that?" broke in the Franciscan with a sneer. Since the beginning of the dinner he had not uttered a single word, his whole attention having been taking up, no doubt, with the food. "It wasn't worth while to squander your fortune to learn so trifling a thing. Any schoolboy knows that."
Ibarra was placed in an embarrassing position, and the rest looked from one to the other as if fearing a disagreeable scene. He was about to say, "The dinner is nearly over and his Reverence is now satiated," but restrained himself and merely remarked to the oth-ers, "Gentlemen, don't be surprised at the familiarity with which our former curate treats me. He treated me so when I was a child, and the years seem to make no difference in his Reverence. I appreciate it, too, because it recalls the days when his Reverence visited our home and honored my father's table."
The Dominican glanced furtively at the Franciscan, who was trembling visibly. Ibarra continued as he rose from the table: "You will now permit me to retire, since, as I have just arrived and must go away tomorrow morning, there remain some important business matters for me to attend to. The principal part of the dinner is over and I drink but little wine and seldom touch cordials. Gentlemen, all for Spain and the Philippines!" Saying this, he drained his glass, which he had not before touched. The old lieutenant silently followed his example.
"Don't go!" whispered Capitan Tiago. "Maria Clara will be here. Isabel has gone to get her. The new curate of your town, who is a saint, is also coming."
"I'll call tomorrow before starting. I've a very important visit to make now." With this he went away.
Meanwhile the Franciscan had recovered himself. "Do you see?" he said to the rubicund youth, at the same time flourishing his dessert spoon. "That comes from pride. They can't stand to have the curate correct them. [24]They even think that they are respectable persons. It's the evil result of sending young men to Europe. The government ought to prohibit it."
"And how about the lieutenant?" Dona Victorina chimed in upon the Franciscan, "he didn't get the frown off his face the whole evening. He did well to leave us so old and still only a lieutenant!" The lady could not forget the allusion to her frizzes and the trampled ruffles of her gown.
That night the rubicund youth wrote down, among other things, the following title for a chapter in his Colonial Studies: "Concerning the manner in which the neck and wing of a chicken in a friar's plate of soup may disturb the merriment of a feast." Among his notes there appeared these observations: "In the Philippines the most unnecessary person at a dinner is he who gives it, for they are
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quite capable of beginning by throwing the host into the street and then everything will go on smoothly. Under present conditions it would perhaps be a good thing not to allow the Filipinos to leave the country, and even not to teach them to read." [25]
1 "He says that he doesn't want it when it is exactly what he does want." An expression used in the mongrel Spanish-Tagalog 'market language' of Manila and Cavite, especially among the children,--somewhat akin to the English 'sour grapes.'--TR.
2 Arms should yield to the toga (military to civil power). Arms should yield to the surplice (military to religious power),--TR.
3 For Peninsula, i.e., Spain. The change of n to n was common among ignorant Filipinos.--TR.
[Contents] Chapter IV
Heretic and Filibuster
Ibarra stood undecided for a moment. The night breeze, which during those months blows cool enough in Manila, seemed to drive from his forehead the light cloud that had darkened it. He took off his hat and drew a deep breath. Carriages flashed by, public rigs moved along at a sleepy pace, pedestrians of many nationalities were passing. He walked along at that irregular pace which indicates thoughtful abstraction or freedom from care, directing his steps toward Binondo Plaza and looking about him as if to recall the
place. There were the same streets and the identical houses with their white and blue walls, whitewashed, or frescoed in bad imitation of granite; the church continued to show its illuminated clock face; there were the same Chinese shops with their soiled curtains and their iron gratings, in one of which was a bar that he, in imitation of the street urchins of Manila, had twisted one night; it was still unstraightened. "How slowly everything moves," he murmured as he turned into Calle Sacristia. The ice-cream venders were repeating the same shrill cry, "Sorbeteee!" while the smoky lamps still lighted the identical Chinese stands and those of the old women who sold candy and fruit.
"Wonderful!" he exclaimed. "There's the same Chinese who was here seven years ago, and that old woman--the very same! It might be said that tonight I've dreamed of a seven years' journey in Europe. Good heavens, that pavement is still in the same unrepaired condition as when I left!" True it was that the stones of the sidewalk on the corner of San Jacinto and Sacristia were still loose.
While he was meditating upon this marvel of the city's [26]stability in a country where everything is so unstable, a hand was placed lightly on his shoulder. He raised his head to see the old lieutenant gazing at him with something like a smile in place of the hard expression and the frown which usually characterized him.
"Young man, be careful! Learn from your father!" was the abrupt greeting of the old soldier.
"Pardon me, but you seem to have thought a great deal of my father. Can you tell me how he died?" asked Ibarra, staring at him.
"What! Don't you know about it?" asked the officer.